I feel like Ralphie being told by Little Orphan Annie to drink my Ovaltine. A lousy commercial?
I approached my parked car after the screening, I found myself wishing it was something a little zippier than a poky little Saturn, and boy I bet a Saturn would be pretty cool tricked out for street racing. And as I drove home, I found myself wondering if those buttons on either side of the steering wheel would ignite the tanks of nitrous oxide under the backseat. (No — they were still for the horn.)